Three is Not a Crowd
by mindmelda
Summary: Trowa, Wufei and Quatre try survive a few Friday night dates from hell. Part of the 345 vignettes.


Title: Three is Not a Crowd  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Humor, Sap Pairing: 3+4+5 Warnings: Lime, Mention of vomit Rating: R Archived: SDQB, S_E Updates, GWFF,  
  
Summary: Wufei, Quatre, and Trowa on a series of dates that leaves them all a little weak in the knees. Part of the "Merging" vignettes.  
  
Three is Not a Crowd  
  
"I never want to hear the word 'ballet' again," said Wufei, flopping down on the bed and unceremoniously ripping off his red silk tie.  
  
"Oh, it wasn't that bad, was it?" chuckled Quatre, "After all, just think about it, 'Fei all those lovely muscular guys in tights, with the nice bulges.."  
  
"Stop right there, Mr. Mind in the Gutter," said Trowa, toeing off his patent leather loafers and sitting next to Wufei. "That was the worse ballet ever and the last thing I need is to hear you raving about some twinkle toes' package."  
  
"Here let me help you with that before you hurt yourself," said Quatre, reaching down to help Trowa take off his cufflinks.  
  
"I hate dressing up," sighed Trowa, "Why can't we go somewhere we don't have to look like we need an organ grinder with us?  
  
"Yeah, like a karate tournament," suggested Wufei hopefully, unbuttoning his shirt and frowning at the sweat stains around the neck. He tossed it negligently in the hamper across the room. "Three points!" he said, as the shirt landed perfectly with no hangover.  
  
"I think that might have been a two pointer," said Trowa, cocking his head judiciously.  
  
"If you think you can do better, be my guest," said Wufei, starting to unbuckle his belt. He unbuttoned, unzipped and slid off his trousers.  
  
Trowa threw his own shirt in the hamper, and missed. He looked around to see if Wufei was looking then strode off to the bathroom.  
  
"What do you think, Cat, cleaners for these?" Wufei said, looking at the pants folded over his arm.  
  
"Throw them in the pile on the chair," said Quatre, yawning and stretching out on the bed already down to his boxers. "I'll have someone take them tomorrow."  
  
"I'm serious about our next night out, we're going to do something fun," said Wufei.  
  
"Oh, you know how it is," said Quatre, punching a pillow down and making a hole for his head, then lying on it with sigh. "You get tickets to all sorts of things and people expect you to show up. Sorry if you were bored silly."  
  
"I don't mind ballet," said Wufei, "But that was just plain bad. Men wearing feathers and tiaras?"  
  
"I didn't get it either," said Quatre. "Come over here and be my teddy bear." He held out his arms, putting on a beguiling face.  
  
"I am not a teddy bear," said Wufei indignantly, but then he grinned and slid into bed next to Quatre.  
  
"Good night, Sweet Prince," said Wufei, kissing him on the temple.  
  
"G'night, Fei," mumbled Quatre, rolling over and pulling the covers over his head.  
  
Trowa stuck his head out of the bathroom, a toothbrush in his mouth. "You two never wait for me," he said, around a mouthful of toothpaste. He went back into the bathroom.  
  
"Quatre's already falling asleep," said Wufei, peeking under the covers.  
  
"Ung," said Quatre, pulling the blanket back over his head. "Go sleep in your own room, noisy," he mumbled.  
  
"They're so cranky when they haven't had their nap," said Trowa, sliding in next to Wufei.  
  
"Goodnight Trowa," said Wufei, leaning over and getting a kiss that tasted of peppermint toothpaste.  
  
"Goodnight Fei," said Trowa, turning off the lamp.  
  
"Goodnight Jon-boy," said Quatre sarcastically, and pulled the pillow over his head.  
  
"What?" asked Trowa and Wufei together.  
  
"Nothing," muttered Quatre. "Go to sleep."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"I'm serious about doing something fun for our next date," said Wufei again the next morning at breakfast.  
  
Trowa scratched his nose. "Don't you think the air is a bit dry in here?" he said to Quatre, who was eating a banana nut muffin and reading the news.  
  
"Um, no," said Quatre, slurping down some coffee, and swallowing a bite.  
  
"Why am I asking you that?" said Trowa, scratching his nose again. "You probably would think your head in an oven was a nice dry heat."  
  
"Is anyone listening to me?" asked Wufei politely, but with an edge to his voice.  
  
"I'm listening," said Quatre, setting down his coffee cup. "Damn, Federal Robotic lost 10 points yesterday!"  
  
"You are not," said Wufei, now sounding irritable.  
  
"I'm listening," said Trowa. "Do you think the air is too dry in here, 'Fei?" he asked.  
  
Wufei sighed. "It seems fine to me, maybe you're catching a cold," he said to Trowa.  
  
"You think?" asked Trowa, scratching his nose again.  
  
"Maybe it's just an allergy," said Quatre, scanning the financial news again.  
  
"Maybe you're allergic to feathers," smirked Wufei.  
  
"Or tiaras," said Trowa, grinning faintly, then sneezing. "Damn," he said, as Quatre handed him a tissue.  
  
"Bless you," said Wufei.  
  
"Merci," said Trowa, blowing his nose.  
  
"Not at the table!" protested Quatre, "I'm eating!"  
  
"Since when did you get all prissy?" said Trowa. "You used to flip mashed potatoes at me not too long ago."  
  
"That was Duo," said Quatre, frowning at him.  
  
"Oh, right," said Trowa, looking embarrassed.  
  
"So, what do you think about doing something simple for our next date?" persisted Wufei.  
  
"Anything as long as there are no feathers," said Trowa, rubbing his reddening eyes.  
  
"All right, how about Mexican food and some classic pre-colony cinema?" asked Wufei. "No dressing up, no fuss, no mess."  
  
"Sounds relaxing," said Quatre, finishing his muffin and licking the crumbs off his fingers.  
  
"I'm easy to please," said Trowa, now downing a large bowl of oatmeal with honey and cinnamon.  
  
"Great," said Wufei. "I'll take care of all the details, you both be available next Friday."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Two Jet Li movies?" asked Quatre of Wufei, coming out of the theatre. He raked through his hair and discovered a piece of popcorn.  
  
"You smell like fake butter," said Trowa, sniffing his hair.  
  
"I think you have a chocolate-covered raisin stuck to your ass," said Quatre, brushing off the back of Trowa's jeans in a lingering fashion.  
  
"I do not, you're just groping me," said Trowa mildly.  
  
"I don't see you complaining."  
  
"That could have gone better," said Wufei, looking down at his shoe and finding a piece of bubble gum stuck there. He sighed and pulled it off.  
  
"EW," said Quatre and Trowa together.  
  
"Hey, who knew that Jet Li movies were so popular with kids?" asked Wufei, shrugging and looking for a trash can in which to discard the dirty gum.  
  
"Well, at least we have dinner to look forward to," said Wufei.  
  
"I've never had Mexican food," said Trowa. "Is it good?"  
  
"It's spicy," said Quatre. "I like it. Lots of peppers."  
  
"Yes, but you have the stomach of a camel," said Trowa.  
  
"Szechuan is hotter," said Wufei. "We can't help it if you're a culinary wimp," he said to Trowa.  
  
"Can I help it if I have a sensitive stomach?" asked Trowa, rubbing his midsection sympathetically.  
  
"Oh, I'm sure there will be something you can handle," said Quatre. "Be adventurous."  
  
"I am adventurous, just not about food," said Trowa.  
  
"This from man whose countrymen eat snails and frogs," said Wufei.  
  
"Frogs aren't spicy," countered Trowa. "Besides they taste like chicken."  
  
"I'm sure they have a children's menu," teased Quatre.  
  
"Has anyone told you lately that you're a mean bastard?" asked Trowa, pinning Quatre from behind as they walked to the restaurant.  
  
"Three times just this week," smirked Quatre, leaning up against him.  
  
"Well, then has anyone told you you're a mean sneaky bastard?" asked Trowa, leaning down a little to lick his earlobe quickly and release him.  
  
"Uh, ugh, what?" said Quatre, distracted by the lick. He reached up to smooth his ruffled hair again.  
  
"We can torture him later," said Wufei, grinning at them. "We're going to be late, kids, if we don't start walking."  
  
"Yes, Mother," said Trowa and Quatre, in unison.  
  
"You can both call me 'Daddy' later," said Wufei, laughing as they went down the street.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Well, that was.interesting," said Quatre politely as they came out of Vista Verde an hour later.  
  
"Trowa, are you all right?" asked Wufei, as Trowa stumbled slightly on the stairs coming down to the street. He grabbed Trowa's arm.  
  
"I'm fine," gasped Trowa. "I just need a liter of antacid and a stomach pump."  
  
"I told you not to eat all those chili relenos," frowned Wufei.  
  
"They were good," muttered Trowa. "They weren't even that spicy."  
  
"Yes, but a lot of green chilies can really purge your system," said Wufei. "If you know what I mean."  
  
"I wish you'd told me that an hour ago," complained Trowa.  
  
"I think we need to get you home," said Quatre, holding him from the other side.  
  
"Another Friday night from hell," sighed Wufei.  
  
"Take us home, Tariq, and quickly," said Quatre to the chauffer, looking nervous.  
  
"And watch the curves," groaned Trowa, starting to look a little green.  
  
"No heaving in the ride," said Wufei, backing away from Trowa anxiously.  
  
"Saboteur," gasped Trowa, putting his head between his knees.  
  
"Take deep breaths," Quatre instructed him.  
  
"He hurls and I'm riding up front with Tariq," said Wufei, huddled against the door.  
  
"I hurl and I'm making sure it's on you," groaned Trowa. "It's your fault I'm suffering."  
  
"It wasn't me that made you eat 6 chili relenos!" exclaimed Wufei.  
  
"I think it was the pitcher of marguaritas myself," noted Quatre, rubbing Trowa's back and patting him on the arm.  
  
"That could be true," said Wufei thoughtfully. "Did we forget to warn him about tequila?"  
  
"Is that what I was drinking?" gasped Trowa. "I thought it was lemonade!"  
  
"You'll be okay," said Quatre soothingly. "Just let me know if you're gonna lose it, I'll have Tariq pull over."  
  
"Mon Dieu, this is embarrassing," Trowa moaned, leaning his head on the armrest. "Now I remember why I never ate before piloting Heavyarms."  
  
"Remember that time Duo ate two cans of Spaghettios and then upchucked in Deathscythe?" chuckled Wufei. "Gods, I thought he'd never get the smell out."  
  
"Allah, do we have to talk about that now?" asked Quatre, giving Wufei a stern look.  
  
"Sorry," said Wufei contritely. "Maybe you should rub his stomach?"  
  
"Come over here and help me," Quatre demanded. He began to rub Trowa's stomach in a soothing circular motion.  
  
"All right," said Wufei reluctantly. "I heard there's a place you can rub on someone's wrist for nausea. I'll try that."  
  
He took Trowa's hand and began to rub his wrist. "How's that?" he asked after a few moments.  
  
"Better," said Trowa, sounding surprised.  
  
"Hey, I'm really sorry this didn't work out," said Wufei apologetically, after a few moments of silence. He leaned over and gave Trowa comforting kiss on the forehead.  
  
"Well, it still was better than the ballet," said Quatre, beginning to snicker.  
  
"No, it wasn't," said Trowa quietly.  
  
"Poor Tro," said Quatre, still snickering. "First feathers and now this."  
  
"I get to make the date arrangements for next Friday night," said Trowa, sighing and curling up on his side on the seat of the limo. "And no kiss for you," he pouted at Quatre, who couldn't seem to quit sniggering.  
  
Wufei and Quatre looked at each other over Trowa's prone form.  
  
"Well, third time's a charm, they say," said Wufei philosophically. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Feeling better?" asked Quatre, bringing Trowa another cup of tea and kissing him on the back of the neck.  
  
"I'll live," said Trowa, still looking a bit pale. "As long as no one says the word 'chili' to me." He shuddered.  
  
"So, what's on the agenda for next Friday?" asked Wufei, bouncing down into the dining room.  
  
"You're disgustingly chipper this morning," said Trowa, picking at a piece of dry toast.  
  
"Still mad at me about last night?" asked Wufei, wincing a little as he piled a plate high with scrambled eggs.  
  
"Not really," said Trowa. "I forgive you, but my stomach doesn't."  
  
"I promise to make it up to you and your stomach," said Wufei, setting down his plate and coming over to give Trowa a hug.  
  
"I'll think of something suitable," said Trowa, wrapping his arms around Wufei's waist and burying his head in his shoulder.  
  
"I'm sure you will," said Wufei, smiling down at the top of his head.  
  
"I could make you be my sex bunny for a day," said Trowa speculatively, waggling his brows.  
  
"Not really a punishment," commented Wufei dryly.  
  
"Who said it was a punishment?" asked Trowa, reaching around and playfully squeezing his ass.  
  
"I should make Quatre be a sex bunny for that dreadful feather ballet, too," said Trowa, reaching behind him and grabbing Quatre too.  
  
"I don't know, big boy, are you sure you can handle two sex bunnies?" asked Quatre, laughing.  
  
"Well, give me a day or two," admitted Trowa. "And all the Vitamin E I can get my hands on."  
  
The End 


End file.
